


The First

by Captain Natasha Riker-Troi (textsfrompicard)



Series: TNG Kelvin Timeline [3]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Academy Era, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dorks in Love, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Feels, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Imzadi (Star Trek), Kelvin Timeline (Star Trek)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26943979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/textsfrompicard/pseuds/Captain%20Natasha%20Riker-Troi
Summary: Re-imagining Riker and Troi’s first meeting in the Kelvin timeline❤️
Relationships: William Riker/Deanna Troi
Series: TNG Kelvin Timeline [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956073
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25
Collections: Trektober 2020





	1. The Space Idiots

**Author's Note:**

> A little late but this is for the day 7 prompt ‘soulmate AU’ as well as the two day 2 prompts I didn’t already use, ‘Academy era’ and ‘first time’.

Once a year starting at the age of five, on a day that (by sheer coincidence) corresponded to the Terran holiday of Christmas Day, one could send almost any item they wished to their soulmate. There were rules, of course. You could not send them your name, address, personal comm code, or anything that would allow them to directly and immediately identify you. If you tried to send them any such thing, it would simply never arrive, and anything they tried to send you would be sent back to them. This would also happen if there was any age difference between you and your soulmate; if you tried to send them a gift when they were not yet old enough to send one back, it would simply never reach them.

Deanna Troi stubbornly refused to listen to this advice the first few years she was old enough to send and receive soulmate gifts. She could not understand why she had to waste time receiving only hints about her soulmate when it would be so much more practical to meet each other as soon as they were able. Why spend so much unnecessary time looking for your soulmate when you could spend that time actually _being_ with your soulmate? As a result, she did not receive any gifts from her soulmate until the age of ten, when she finally had to admit that trying to bend the rules wasn’t getting her anywhere. Kestra had been luckier; when Deanna’s older sister received her very first soulmate gift, she immediately realized that it belonged to a neighbor from down the street, as she had seen her playing with it in her front yard only the previous week. This had happened before Deanna was born; ergo, she had grown up with a somewhat unrealistic expectation of how easy it would be to find her soulmate.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first gift she successfully sent to her soulmate was a collection of short stories by Ernest Pratt depicting the ancient West. It was her favorite from amongst her father’s collection, and at that point she was willing to try just about anything. She sent it mainly as a test, not really expecting to receive anything back. Much to her surprise and delight, the following morning she found a wrapped, unlabeled gift at the foot of her bed. The wrapping told her that her soulmate must be some part Terran, or at least raised among Terrans, because out of all the species in the galaxy they were the only ones who treated the soulmate gifts in the same way as Christmas gifts. Perhaps it was a coincidence, but the gift that was sent to Deanna was also a book; a history of all the starships named Enterprise. And inside was a note, scrawled in messy kid handwriting:

_I hope this one gets to you. All my gifts so far have been bounced back, except for the first one which I guess didn’t arrive because you weren’t old enough. Anyway, I hope you like it (if you get it). — WR_

Deanna grinned triumphantly. _So initials work!_ She immediately drafted a return note, explaining that she had been trying to duck the rules and that was why her soulmate’s gifts never found their way to her, signing it with her own initials. She kept it until the following year, when she could send another gift, this time choosing a ten-gallon hat her father picked up for her in a novelty shop. Her soulmate’s gift to her this year was a model of the very first Enterprise starship, the NX-01 captained by Jonathan Archer. It was also accompanied with a note, expressing their delight in finally receiving a gift from their soulmate and emphasizing how much they liked the Western stories.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It went on in this way for several years, this long-distance (in space as well as time) mashup of pen pals and Secret Santas, the gifts Deanna sent always having the theme of the ancient West, and the gifts she received always having the theme of an Enterprise, or at least Starfleet in general. When she applied for and received admission to Starfleet Academy, she couldn’t say how much of her decision was motivated by her own desire to follow her father’s footsteps into space, or her suspicion that the theme of her soulmate’s gifts to her could not be a coincidence. Neither of them had said in their notes what their plans for the future were, for fear this would be too specific to satisfy the rules. Besides, some things didn’t need to be explicitly stated in order to be understood.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

So it was that in 2353 Captain Ian Troi ferried his daughters to Earth on the U.S.S. Carthage; Kestra to begin a graduate program in exobiology at Terra Sol University, and Deanna to begin her first year at Starfleet Academy in the newly formed counseling program. He bade them an emotional farewell; the girls were all he had left of his late wife Lwaxana, who had been killed three years prior in a second contact gone very, very wrong. His duties did not permit him to stay longer than it took to drop them off, so the sisters helped each other settle into their respective living quarters. Kestra and her now-fiancée had rented an apartment in San Francisco in order to be close to Deanna, despite Deanna’s insistence that everyone was only a transporter beam away from anyone else anyway and besides, she wasn’t a child anymore and didn’t need to be looked after. Kestra reminded her smugly that she was, technically, still a child, since she was only 17, and added seriously that she was her big sister and she didn’t intend to ever give up that responsibility.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

And so it came to pass that the three of them were taking a stroll by the docks at sunset, the rosy red sky reflecting brilliantly off the surface of the bay. There weren’t nearly as many people out and about as there had been earlier, which came as a relief to them; this was the first time any of them had spent a significant amount of time away from Betazed, and they were discovering that other races weren’t nearly as adept at controlling their thoughts and emotions as most Betazoids were. Fortunately, they were able to bolster one another’s mental shields, allowing them to keep the unintentional psionic onslaught at bay.

Deanna was walking slightly ahead of Kestra and Lexora, enjoying the feel of the light breeze on her face and the taste of the salty air, when she began to perceive a deep sadness emanating from nearby. Curious, she cautiously lowered her shields somewhat, so as not to be too overwhelmed by the emotions. The sadness grew stronger, and it was permeated with a sense of loss and grief. Recognizing the same feelings she had experienced three years ago when her mother died, she hastily increased her pace, zeroing in on the source of the emotions like a beacon.

 _Deanna, where are you going?_ Kestra called after her, taken aback by her sister’s sudden hurry. She was keeping her shields raised, and had not yet noticed what Deanna had.

 _Can’t you sense it?_ Deanna sent back impatiently. She started to hurry faster, not waiting for her sister to respond, or even stopping to consider just why she was in such a hurry. Before long she reached a particular pier and turned to head along the length of it, where a lone figure stood at the end. His back was to her, and his head was bowed, but he was clearly wearing a Starfleet cadet’s uniform. Deanna began to feel slightly ridiculous. Had she really just rushed all the way out here just to comfort a complete stranger?

“Ex-- excuse me,” she said hesitantly. He turned around, and she was confronted with a young human male of her approximate age. His eyes were a bright, almost piercing blue, which widened slightly at the sight of her. The breeze ruffled his light brown hair as he gave her a crooked smile. “Hi,” he said. He continued to smile, although it did not reach his eyes. She could still sense the sadness in him, although it was now joined by a new feeling, something light and hopeful.

“Hi,” she responded, finding herself quite unable to think of anything else to say. They stood there facing each other in awkward silence for a moment, until Kestra and Lexora caught up to her. Her sister looked back and forth between Deanna and the stranger, and a mischievous grin began to spread across her face. She could sense what was going on, even if Deanna didn’t fully realize it. “Who’s this then, Deanna?” she asked teasingly.

“Um— I don’t know,” said Deanna, still too off balance to come up with a clever retort. “He hasn’t said his name yet.” She looked back at him and, belatedly remembering Terran social customs, stuck her hand out into the space between them. “I’m Deanna Troi.”

He took her hand and shook it, looking at her curiously. “Bill Riker.” His voice was somber, yet warm and friendly, and she had the feeling that Bill Riker was normally a jovial and enthusiastic soul. He looked over her shoulder, and she realized she had forgotten to introduce her companions. Hastily she said “This is my sister Kestra, and her fiancé Lexora Udax.”

“How do you do,” Riker said politely, shaking each of their hands in turn. He looked back at Deanna, and after a moment he said, “You’re Betazoids, aren’t you?”

They all nodded. “We didn’t mean to pry,” Deanna said hastily. “It’s just that I sensed you out here and— well, I was wondering…” she trailed off, embarrassed. Riker frowned at her words, not noticing her embarrassment. “I thought Betazoids were telepaths. Can’t you tell what I’m thinking?”

“My sister and I are only half Betazoid,” Kestra explained. “Besides, it’s considered rude to pry into another’s thoughts without permission.”

Riker nodded. “That makes sense.” He fell silent, wondering just how much he should share with three strangers. Of course, one of them might not be a stranger after all… but what were the odds? He didn’t want to get his hopes up in case of disappointment. He had enough on his plate right now.

As he was considering his next course of action, Deanna spoke up hesitantly. “You’ve lost someone recently, haven’t you?”

He nodded, relieved she had brought it up first. “My father. You heard about the Tholian attack on Starbase 311?”

The Betazoids nodded somberly, and Deanna placed a comforting hand on Bill’s shoulder. “Kes and I lost our mother a few years ago,” she said softly. “We understand.” 

Riker bowed his head as a lump swelled in his throat. “Thank you,” he mumbled. Swallowing, he looked up and continued, “The memorial service is next week, in Valdez, Alaska, our hometown.”

“That’s up north, right?” asked Deanna. She had studied Terran geography avidly before coming to Earth.

Bill nodded. “It’s very cold, at least to some people, but beautiful.” He looked at Deanna again with veiled hope in his eyes, hoping she wouldn’t find his request too strange. “I don’t suppose you’d like to come? I know Betazoids appreciate nature, and there’s a lot of nature to appreciate in Alaska.”

His tone was casual, but his eagerness wasn’t lost on the Betazoids. Kestra and Lexora shared a fleeting smirk before turning to Deanna, wiggling their eyebrows in amusement. Deanna pretended not to notice as she answered Bill’s request. “Of course, we’ll be glad to come,” she replied, blushing slightly. Why was she reacting like this? There was no way he could be her soulmate; his initials were wrong. “I’ve seen pictures of Alaska in Terran guidebooks. It looks absolutely gorgeous.”

“It’s even more so in person,” said Bill, smiling. “I know my mother will probably insist on having you over for dinner. She always treats my friends like family.” They exchanged contact information and he gave them all the relevant information on date, time, and locale, and they all said good night, since Academy classes started in the morning.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It turned out that Deanna and Bill had some classes together, so they saw each other a few times over the course of the following week, and almost every day thereafter. He introduced her to Terran jazz music, and she in turn introduced him to Betazoid art and philosophy. They had many a lively and spirited debate, and they quickly became fast friends. They frequently had lunch or dinner with Kestra and Lexora, which Kestra teasingly referred to as double dates (out of Riker’s earshot, of course). Deanna continued to insist that she and Bill were ‘just friends’, and neither of them could summon the nerve to bring up the topic of soulmate gifts with the other. 

For Deanna’s part, she was completely ignorant of the fact that ‘Bill’ was a nickname for a name that did not in fact begin with a B (although she can hardly be blamed for that mistake; how someone could derive ‘Bill’ from ‘William’ is beyond the sanest of minds). 

In Bill’s case, he was understandably hesitant to open up emotionally in the wake of his father’s death. In addition, he had encountered a surprisingly high number of people with Deanna’s initials in the six years that had elapsed since he first received the note from her signed with her initials, and he had found himself disappointed (and embarrassed) far too many times. So, when Deanna and her sisters came to Valdez for Kyle Riker’s memorial service, and he gave them a tour of his hometown and his childhood dwelling, he never mentioned the box underneath his bed that contained the Western-themed gifts his soulmate had sent him. Besides, he figured that if her soulmate had his initials, _she_ would probably bring it up. It never occurred to him that she might have her own reasons for keeping silent, as he did. And so they went on for the next few months, in semi-blissful ignorance.


	2. The Parents

Christmas in Valdez was a frigid, snowy affair. The wind was biting and blew with such strength that upon materializing at the transporter station Deanna stumbled off the platform and would have fallen into a snowbank, were it not for Bill’s quick reflexes. He caught her in his arms and gently sent her upright, hoping the wind had rendered his cheeks rosy enough already so that his slight blush was not visible.

“You okay?” he asked as they all stepped carefully down off the transporter platform. She nodded and smiled through chattering teeth. “Wh-- what a d-difference a f-few months m-makes,” she shivered. “It w-wasn’t n-nearly this c-cold in S-s-september.”

“Well, that’s Alaska for you,” said Elizabeth Riker as she came forward to greet her son and his friends. “Icy one minute, freezing the next, but always guaranteed to turn you into a human popsicle in seconds-- or Betazoid popsicles, in your case.” She hugged them all hello and gave Bill a kiss on his cheek before ushering them all into the groundcar. “Normally I wouldn’t bring the car when the trip is so short on foot, but I assumed you wouldn’t want to try to walk through this weather! Do you know when your father is expected to arrive?”

“Dad said the Carthage was delayed at Beta III,” Kestra said. “Apparently they’ve started worshipping their computer again, and it’s his turn to tell them to stop.” She rolled her eyes. “But the good news is the Betans are so suggestible that they listen pretty quickly, if only temporarily, to whichever Starfleet ship drew the short straw that week, so he should get here tomorrow.”

“Well, that’s good news,” Elizabeth said, not even pretending to understand what Kestra was referring to. She had never shared her son’s interest in Starfleet, although she encouraged him at every turn and was immensely proud of him for getting into Starfleet Academy, which she knew was very prestigious and had extremely high standards. “I wouldn’t want to be one short at Christmas Eve dinner. I hope he doesn’t mind salmon-- that’s what I usually cook every Christmas.” Her voice faltered for a second. “Kyle and Bill used to always go on a fishing trip the day before, but this year I wasn’t sure if-- that is, if you wanted to.” She glanced sideways at her son. “You haven’t really said anything.”

“Well, I-- I still want to do it,” Bill said hesitantly, as the groundcar soared over the treetops and came into sight of the Riker homestead. “It wouldn’t be Christmas without fresh salmon.”

“I understand wanting to maintain family traditions,” said Deanna as they landed in the Rikers’ backyard, “but sitting outside in this weather, waiting to catch a fish? Won’t you freeze to death?” Inwardly she wondered if her voice came out a little more alarmed than she intended. She didn’t want to seem _too_ worried about him... but he was her friend. Surely it wasn’t so strange to be concerned for his well-being? But what if she sounded _too_ concerned--

_Oh for deities’ sake, Dee, stop overthinking everything. Just try to relax._

_Don’t tell me what to do!_ Deanna retorted to Kestra as they all climbed out of the groundcar. “I never have before,” Bill said in response to her earlier query, smiling in that way he had that came mostly from his eyes, as he reached out a hand to help her down. She found herself mirroring his smile as their hands touched, and her heart fluttered.

_Get ahold of yourself_ , she told herself angrily. _He’s just a friend._

_No he’s noooot_ , interrupted a singsong voice.

_Be quiet, Kes!_

Bill and Elizabeth helped the girls settle into their guest rooms, and then Bill headed out to catch the Christmas Eve salmon, before the sun went down and it became too cold for even a native Alaskan to function. Elizabeth made everyone hot chocolate (much to the Trois’ delight) and started a log burning in the fireplace, so they all gathered around to enjoy the warmth.

“I hope he’s not too lonely out there,” Deanna said to Elizabeth. “Or too cold.”

Elizabeth smiled sadly. “He takes after his father. The two of them used to spend hours together at the lake, in all kinds of weather. Kyle spent a lot of time away from home, working for the Federation, but he would take Bill up to the lake every chance he got. One time they came home with this enormous fish that was the length of my forearm, and Kyle wouldn’t stop bragging about how Bill had caught the thing all by himself, without any assistance at all. You’d think a nine-year-old had never caught a fish before, the way he was carrying on.” She smiled again, and sighed wistfully. “Of course, that was nothing compared to when Bill got his acceptance letter from Starfleet Academy. He was so proud of him, I could swear there were tears in his eyes.” There seemed to be more than a few in her own eyes, as she reminisced on the bond her husband and son had shared.

“Dad cried too when I got into Starfleet Academy,” Deanna smiled in sympathy with Elizabeth, then sighed as her gaze grew pensive. “He said that Mother would have been proud of me too.”

“She would have,” Kestra agreed softly. They were all silent for a long moment, reflecting on their respective losses. 

Suddenly the silence was broken by a loud clattering from outside, and they all jumped, managing by a thread not to spill their drinks. The back door opened with a flurry of wind and snow, and in marched Bill Riker, triumphantly holding a giant salmon above his head like a trophy. “Dinner’s here!”

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“That was excellent,” Ian Troi said to Elizabeth as he helped her clean up after Christmas Eve dinner. After Bill and the girls put their dirty dishes into the replicator to be recycled, they had gone to their rooms, ostensibly to retire for the night, although Ian was pretty sure he knew what Kestra and Lexora would be getting up to. He took a moment to thank his lucky stars that he wasn’t Betazoid himself (and couldn’t sense what they were doing) and finished stacking the china plates, putting them away in the cupboard.

“Thank you.” Elizabeth smiled as she slid the serving platter into its drawer underneath the oven. “I must admit, I’m so glad that Bill invited all of you over to spend Christmas with us. I was afraid it would be too lonely with just me and him.”

“I thought the invitation came from _you_ ,” Ian responded with a smile, “but I’m glad it came, regardless. This is the first year the girls are spending Christmas away from home, and I wasn’t sure if I would’ve been able to make it this year. It’s nice to know they wouldn’t have been too lonely if I hadn’t.”

“Did you celebrate Christmas on Betazed, then?” asked Elizabeth. “I know it’s not a Betazoid holiday, but since you’re human…” She trailed off awkwardly.

“Well, it took some persuading to get my wife on board,” said Ian with a crooked smile, “and it was darn near impossible to find a decent sized evergreen on a planet where the entire climate is basically Mediterranean, but I managed it every year without fail. I decorated the house, too-- if you think _your_ decorations are excessive, you should’ve seen the Fifth House on Christmas morning. Lwaxana was a very… vibrantly stylish woman, but even _she_ thought it was a bit over the top. Of course, she always managed to forgive me for my enthusiasm when she saw what her soulmate gift was that year.” His gaze grew pensive, and his eyes glittered with nostalgia. “We kept up the tradition of giving them anonymously, even though we obviously knew who each other was by that point. But we felt it added more fun and excitement to reintroduce a little bit of mystery to our relationship, and it also guaranteed that our gifts would find their way to each other, even if I couldn’t make it home that year.”

“Kyle and I had a similar tradition.” Elizabeth smiled wistfully. “He was always doing pickup work for the Federation, and he could be called away at any moment, even on a holiday. So after we met, we still sent our gifts to each other that way, in order to make sure we could still connect even when normal channels were unavailable.” Her voice wavered, and she reached a hand out to the kitchen counter to steady herself. “He always made a special effort to stay connected with us, I think partly because he knew his job would take him away a lot. But Bill and I have-- had never doubted for a moment his devotion to our family.” At last her composure failed, and she started to sob. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, turning away from Ian in embarrassment. “I don’t normally break down crying in front of guests--”

“It’s okay,” Ian said huskily, putting his arms around her and letting her weep into his shoulder. “I understand better than most people what you’re going through. I don’t know if you know this, but when a Betazoid finds their soulmate, they form a kind of mental bond with them that gives them a sort of awareness of what the other person is feeling, and lets them communicate telepathically, even if the other person isn’t Betazoid. The bond gets weaker with distance, but it’s always there. So when my wife-- when I felt the bond break--” Now it was his turn to falter, and her turn to comfort him as he continued, “it was the worst thing imaginable. For twenty-one years, she was always there, in the back of my mind. Her presence was so comforting, so familiar-- and then--” He swallowed. “I don’t think I could put it into words, even if I wanted to.”

“I didn’t know that,” Elizabeth said softly, “about Betazoids, I mean. It must have been a wonderful thing, to have such an intimate bond with your soulmate. Most soulmates can’t literally say they can read each other’s minds.”

“Well, the mind-reading was mostly one way,” said Ian wryly. “I’ll never forget how we first met, when I visited Betazed as part of a Starfleet team to upgrade their orbital defense systems. Lwaxana was one of the diplomats who came to greet us, and when we materialized in the greeting hall I immediately noticed that she was wearing a sapphire necklace I’d sent to my soulmate a few years previously. I was going to wait until after the day’s official duties were over before talking to her about it, but she picked up my thoughts as soon as they were formed and she exclaimed “I knew you’d come, my darling boy!” and kissed me right there, in front of my commanding officer and all of our colleagues.”

Elizabeth couldn’t help herself. She laughed out loud. “Sounds like a very outgoing woman.”

“She was.” Ian smiled. “Outgoing, and unafraid, and completely unapologetic. When people met us, they couldn’t understand how two such diametrically opposed personalities could fit so well together. But _we_ couldn’t understand how it could be any other way.”

“That’s how Kyle and I felt.” Elizabeth smiled as she dried the last of her tears. “Kyle grew up in Valdez, but I lived in the nearby town of Cordova, about forty miles south of here. Of course, it might as well have been forty thousand miles, for all the awareness we had of each other. Neither of us had any idea the other existed until orientation day at the University of Alaska, Juneau, when I found myself face-to-face with a handsome young man who was wearing my father’s antique wristwatch. It was quite a shock-- but a pleasant one, too.” She leaned against the refrigerator. “It was lucky that Kestra’s soulmate actually lived right down the street from her. That must have certainly made things easier for them.”

“Yes, it did,” agreed Ian, “but I’m afraid it gave Deanna some unrealistic expectations. She was born after Kestra and Lexora found each other, so all she knew growing up was how easy it was for Kestra to find her soulmate. She couldn’t understand why it had to be harder for her than it was for her sister.”

“It’s not always that easy,” Elizabeth said solemnly. “Most people take years to find their soulmates, and some never even find them at all. I know Bill is already frustrated-- he’s the same age now that his father and I were when we first met, and he didn’t even receive any gifts from his soulmate for the first six years.”

Ian’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? That’s a coincidence. Deanna didn’t get any gifts from her soulmate the first _five_ years, either. Of course, that was kind of her fault; she kept trying to send gifts that would tell her soulmate who she was or where to find her.”

Elizabeth chuckled. “I can certainly understand the temptation to do that, especially after seeing her sister have it so easy. Bill wanted to give up after the first few years of not getting anything, but I told him to keep trying. Sooner or later he would make a connection, and sure enough he did, seven years ago. He finally got a soulmate gift, and it was the strangest thing. He’d sent one of his most prized possessions, a book about all the ships named Enterprise, because he was nearly convinced by that point that it would just get bounced straight back to him. But instead he got a different book in return: a collection of short stories, set in Earth’s ancient West. It was very--”

Something was tickling the back of Ian’s brain from the moment Elizabeth first mentioned Bill’s delay in receiving his presents, and as she spoke the last couple of sentences it hit him with all the force of a thermonuclear warhead. “Wait. Did you say… the ancient West?”


	3. The Soulmate Gifts

Deanna couldn’t sleep. It was exhausting having to keep her mental shields raised against Kestra and Lexora’s shenanigans next door; and besides, she couldn’t stop thinking about Bill. Her feelings had become increasingly harder to ignore since their first meeting on the pier three months ago, and she was starting to wonder if it would be worth biting the bullet and just telling him how she felt. Sure, he may not have been her soulmate, but they obviously got along very well, and enjoyed each other’s company… but wasn’t that the point? They were friends, very good ones, and was it worth jeopardizing that over the possibility of something more?

_That’s enough, Deanna_ , she told herself sternly. _You’ve been having this argument with yourself, and sometimes with Kestra, for three months. Quit dithering and do something about it._ But she continued to lie flat upon the bed, staring up at the ceiling, locked in indecision.

Just then there was a gentle rapping at her door. “Deanna, are you awake?”

Her heart skipped a beat at the familiar voice. “Bill?” She got up and went to the door, opening it to see her friend standing there somewhat sheepishly in a thin T-shirt and shorts. She was suddenly very aware of the diaphanous pale lavender nightgown she was wearing. “What is it?” she asked, trying and failing not to seem self-conscious.

“Um…” Bill hesitated, and she could sense he was nervous, indecisive… and aroused? Her heart started beating faster, and hope flared within it for a moment. She wasn’t sure if her own feelings had been getting in the way of her being able to read his all these months, but in this moment it seemed as though he felt the same way she did. Of course, she could just be deluding herself… but wasn’t false hope better than no hope at all?

Finally Bill worked up his courage. “I want to show you something,” he said, swallowing nervously. Deanna had the sudden insight that he had been working towards this moment for a long time. “Will you come to my room for a second?”

His _room?_ In their _nightclothes?_ Okay, this _had_ to be a good sign. Even a man wouldn’t be so obtuse as to invite a woman to his bedroom when they were both wearing their pajamas if he didn’t have the intention of… well, you know. “All right,” she said, doing her best to suppress her excitement.

He led her across the hall to his own bedroom, and he reached under his bed to pull out a wooden chest. “This is where I keep the gifts I receive from my soulmate,” he said, and opened the lid. Deanna gasped when she saw the contents.

“Do you recognize them?” he asked hopefully, and she sensed a sudden flare of excitement within him. 

Wordlessly, she reached into the box and lifted each of the items out one by one. _The Complete Adventures of Cowboy Ralph_ by Ernest Pratt. A weather-worn ten-gallon hat. A Cowboy Ralph action figure. Her hand-drawn map of the fictional Western town of Deadwood. A water gun fashioned to look like an ancient pistol. The replicator pattern for a sheriff’s costume (she couldn’t send him a real one, not knowing his size), and the sheriff’s costume produced from it. A poem she’d written about the epic duel between Durango and the Butcher of Bozeman. And the notes. Six of them, all signed with her initials, in beautiful pink cursive.

“How…” she asked dumbfoundedly, at a complete loss for words. Still holding the last note in her hand, she looked up at him. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

“At first I was afraid of another disappointment,” Bill admitted as he sat cross-legged next to her on the floor. “A _lot_ of people have your initials, and you were so beautiful and kind and warm… I wanted to get to know you, and if I just came right out and asked if you were my soulmate, and you said no… I didn’t want to have to deal with that, especially right after Dad died. And then as we became friends, I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship. But then Mom talked some sense into me. She said that you were ‘a real catch’ and if I let you get away she’d never let me hear the end of it.” He met her gaze, and his blue eyes shone with undisguised joy. “And I’m glad I listened to her. As much as I’ve loved spending time with you these past few months, I know it’ll be even better now.”

“But--” Deanna still didn’t understand. “This doesn’t make any sense. The notes I’ve been getting from _my_ soulmate, they weren’t signed with your initials. Your name begins with a B, and-- _what_ are you laughing at?”

“I’m-- I’m sorry,” Bill gasped between guffaws as he valiantly attempted to regain control of himself, “but I-- I thought you knew. Bill is a nickname for-- for William.”

Deanna blinked. “ _What?_ But that doesn’t even make any sense! Where did the ‘B’ come from?”

“How the hell should I know?” Bill was still laughing. “I can’t believe-- all this time I thought you weren’t saying anything because you weren’t the one getting my notes, but you-- you really didn’t know? But you have a human father and everything--”

“Oh, and _that_ means I should know everything there is to know about humans?”

“Well, I thought it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility--”

“Shows what _you_ know, you-- you--” Her frustration evaporated as she gazed at his sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks, and she found herself laughing right along with him. “I can’t believe all this time we’ve been dancing around each other and not saying anything, when we’ve been soulmates this whole time. What a pair of idiots we are, aren’t we?”

“You’re far from an idiot,” he said softly. Their eyes met, and time seemed to freeze for a moment. She leaned forward and kissed him. Several joyous eternities later, their lips parted, and she pulled back slightly to meet his gaze again.

“Lock the door.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What does _Imzadi_ mean?” Bill whispered to her several hours later. They were curled up together on his bed, the blankets and their clothes lying discarded on the floor. While they had both managed to get some _literal_ sleeping done, that constituted far from the majority of their nocturnal activities. Now Deanna’s body was draped across the left half of his body, and her head rested in the crook of his neck.

She shifted slightly and glanced up at him. “Did I call you that last night?”

“I think so. I thought I heard your voice in my head, right when… at the climax. Afterwards, I was going to ask about it, but then you distracted me again.” He brushed his fingers against her cheek.

Deanna smirked and reached up to catch his hand with hers. “Not bad for my first time, huh?”

Bill’s eyes widened. “That was _your_ first time, too?”

She nodded and smiled. “Well, that’s a happy coincidence. _Imzadi_ …” She paused for a moment, and the word resonated in the air between them like a glorious melody. “It’s a Betazoid term of endearment. It’s usually translated as ‘beloved’ or, less often, as ‘dear one’. But the full meaning is much deeper than that, and it’s difficult to translate into non-telepathic terms. The closest literal translation is… ‘the first’.”

He blinked. “You mean like… sex?”

She laughed softly and stroked the side of his face. “No, but I knew you were going to say that. It means ‘first’ as in ‘first to ever touch your soul’.”

Bill gazed at her silently for a moment, hugging her a little closer to him. “So it’s basically the Betazoid word for soulmate?”

“Effectively, yes, but the use of the term precedes the first recorded incidence of soulmate gifts appearing on Betazed. As you know, soulmates can be either platonic or romantic, and _Imzadi_ is exclusively a romantic term. Ninety-nine percent of the time, both terms refer to the same person, but there are rare occasions when one’s soulmate is not one’s _Imzadi_.” She planted a gentle kiss on his lips and smiled. “I’m glad this wasn’t one of those occasions.”

Bill smiled back. “Me too.” He kissed her again tenderly, and it was another blissful eternity before their lips parted again. They lay intertwined with their foreheads pressed together, until the sun started peeking through the blinds and the sound of the coffee maker downstairs aggressively broke the peaceful silence. Reluctantly, they extricated themselves from one another and got up to get dressed. As Deanna bent over to pick up her gown, she noticed two small boxes at the foot of the bed. One of them looked familiar, and she smiled. “I think our soulmate gifts are here.”

Bill turned from his open closet and his eyes lit up at the sight. “So they are.” He came back over to the bed and picked up the gift that was encased in wrapping paper covered with little cowboy hats. “Did you get me anything different or special this year, or were you still operating under the assumption that I wasn’t your soulmate?”

Deanna shot him a mock glare as she picked up her own gift. “You’re never going to let that go, are you? _I’m_ not the one with a nickname that doesn’t make any sense.”

“You’re never going to let _that_ go, are you?” They grinned goofily at each other as they unwrapped their gifts. Deanna’s eyes widened when she opened hers. “ _Imzadi_ , this is beautiful!” It was a gold heart-shaped locket on a chain, and when she carefully pried it open, inside she found a holograph of her and Bill on a trip to Tiburon they had taken one Saturday. A passing tourist had offered to take the holo, assuming the two were a couple, and they had both been too embarrassed to correct her. In the end, of course, it had turned out that no correction was necessary. Deanna looked up at Bill, her eyes shining. “How long were you planning to give me this?”

“I bought it two days ago, when you thought I was spending the whole day fishing for the salmon.” Bill’s eyebrows waggled in amusement. “It actually only took me about twenty minutes to catch it. I spent most of the day before that looking for the perfect necklace and annoying the pants off every jeweler in town.” He paused. “It’s a really good thing you turned out to be my soulmate after all. Otherwise I might have had some explaining to do.”

Deanna laughed as she wrapped her arms around him and embraced him tightly. “I love it, _Imzadi_. And I love you. In that order.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then stepped back slightly so he could open his gift.

Bill lifted the lid off the small rectangular box. When he saw what was inside, he burst out laughing. “I guess it’s true when they say that soulmates think with the same brain.”

It was a sterling silver picture frame, and inside was a larger version of the exact same holograph that Bill had given Deanna. He looked up at her, grinning. “I thought you didn’t think it was me?”

She shrugged and smiled disarmingly. “What can I say? My head was convinced, but my heart begged to differ. In the end, my heart won.”


End file.
